by Frances June
The phone ringing in my pocket reminded me that my life couldn't stay on hold which was a blessing in disguise.
Billy was gone, I couldn't change that, but I had to do what Monroe always told us to do when we were younger. Compartmentalize the emotions, remember what was important and for the love of all things Holy; keep moving forwards.
Somehow the day had gotten away from me. Work started at 3 and here I was dripping naked with a patch on each arm, staring into the mirror at my sad-sack reflection.
Sometimes I did that. Possibly too often. It wasn't that I wanted to look at myself, more like I had to check to see if I was still me. It was a hard thing to explain, Christ knows I'd tried when I first started going to therapy.
I headed over to The Pony Bar to start my shift; Happy hour started at 4:20 and I was the lucky SOB who'd been put on the rota.
When I walked in I could tell Mrs G hadn't been lying. Tourists were dotted around with the tell-tale maps, scrolling through the camera roll on their phones, picking the best filter for their online bravado and sitting in my bar with a look of mild nervousness mixed with naïve hope that New York was going to be the place they always dreamt of.
I pulled my cap out of my back pocket and slung it on backwards. It was an ongoing joke with me and the others that if my cap was on backwards I was ready for battle, aka don't poke the fucking bear.
I watched as a few of them raised their eyebrows at each other as I walked past.
"Bad day?" Jerry, the manager, was serving a yuppie from out of town one of our pretentious crafts. The guy's eyes watched at the glass filled like liquid gold. I wish I could feel that sense of excitement at the sight of beer. Being on the wagon sucked.
"You bet." I laughed to ease the tension. Jerry laughed whole heartedly and slapped me on the back. Betting; another wagon I was on. These past few years I'd managed to repress every single thing that caused me to fall into my main life trap; anger. Hence the management.
The day turned to early evening and the usuals came and left along with the unusuals that New York had to offer when the weather turned frosty, driving the rats indoors for warmth.
"Bet you could use that drink now?" A small tap on my shoulder from someone reaching across the bar.
I'd turned to restock glasses Freya had brought from the dishwasher. She'd been on duty all week as punishment for getting trashed last week whilst on shift, jumping on the bar and yelling 'Coyote Ugly'.
She had balls, I'd give her that. She’d shown up every day to make amends. Poor little thing from the suburbs looked like butter wouldn't melt but get a drink in her and she turned into a totally different person. I got that.
It took all my strength not to drop the glasses – I was a hair trigger and everyone who knew me knew not to sneak up on me. I looked around to see the blonde punk still leaning across the bar, her whole body stretched across to reach me so her legs were in the air behind her.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I pushed her back over the bar and signaled to Jerry that all was OK when he glanced over, his whole face creasing into the frown he saved for kicking drunk kids out.
She had the audacity to smile and sit down like she hadn't stolen my personal belongings just hours earlier. I'd never hit a woman before but right now the exception seemed to be staring me in the face.
Count to ten.
"I wanted to return this, I think you dropped it." She handed me my busted wallet which was barely holding itself together. She was deadpan which made me even more doubtful of her intentions.
I'd met girls like her before; young, self-assured, too old for their time and yet so young it hurt to look at them. She was street-wise, or at least she thought she was. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in bravado.
I'd known someone just like her years ago.
"Right, you're telling me this just fell out of my coat pocket? The pockets that are so deep I can't even find the lighter I dropped in it last week?" I slid the wallet across the bar and tucked it in my back pocket, as far away from her hands as possible.
"Yeah." She sat up straight and leaned her elbows on the bar like she was an old patron. She had a metal Zippo clasped in her hand but I could see an engraved cross design between her fingers. It was mine. "Anyway, I thought you said you quit?"
I watched her hands unclip the lid of the lighter, ignite the flame and put it out. She did it a few times over and I watched for a moment like I was hypnotised, both trying to calm down and trying not to get enticed into the dangerous game she was trying to draw me into. I knew a honey trap when I saw one but god-damn if this wasn't the sweetest I'd seen in a long time.
This time I counted all the way to twenty.
"Hey! No smoking." Jerry yelled across the bar, he looked at me like she was my responsibility, which she was. Bar rule: Your customer; your problem. "You wanna smoke you go outside and stop bothering my staff."
"Relax, man, I'm getting a drink!" She called back to him, not even worried that he was three times her size in muscle alone.
"Well I'm going to have to see some -" Before I could finish she'd thrust a driver’s license in front of my face.
"Do you think I've never seen a fake I.D before... Chastity? You have to be kidding me." Her picture was recent, as proof by her hair being bright white with no signs of the black roots that she had now. She looked young, though, the way the camera had bleached her already pale skin she could have been a ghost. The only life was in her eyes which shone with an otherworldly spark in an otherwise muted picture.
"We don't pick our names, Saul..." She snatched the card back, the colour on her cheeks returned like it had this morning when she'd heard it was Billy's body I was identifying. At least I knew she wasn't totally unflappable. "Besides, do you really want to turn me away when I have a proposition for you?"
I felt bad for her if she had to come all this way just to score a new client. The other bar patrons were looking at us now. Her whole appearance was intended to draw attention.
She was a flame in a dark night; her piercings were small but many which already gave her the appeal of 'other' but from what I could see she had changed into very tight pants that laced up at the front with a black bodice that was tight in all the right places and drew your eyes to all the wrong places.
I made a point of never letting my eyes stray below her lips, which were painted dark red.
"Forget the drink so I can keep my job. I'm going for a break; meet me out back." I waved to Nick who was on bar with me to let him know I was taking five.
Chastity was out of the front door before I could tell her to wait so we didn't look suspicious, that way maybe Jerry wouldn't have grabbed me by the arm on the way out.
"Think about it before you do anything stupid." He pinched my arm a little too hard.
"Relax, she's just a kid. I'm gonna direct her to the shelter." I lied, I don't know why, I just did. Old habits die furiously hard.
Jerry shook his head but said no more. I'm sure I heard him mutter Morgan's name, like I needed reminding I was the luckiest damn bastard in this city to have her.
The alley behind the bar was dark and stank of rotting garbage but it wasn't all that bad. The cold air was a blessing in disguise. In the summer it was impossible to take a break out here for fear of being eaten by the rats that gathered for the really rotten stuff.
Chastity appeared from the shadows like it was an art form. She'd at least put a jacket on; leather, like she'd be seen dead in anything else. Her breath fogged in the air and mingled with my own which sent a shiver down my spine I couldn't attest to the temperature.
"This isn't what you think it is." I pulled out a cigarette from my pack and bit it between my teeth before I remembered I didn't have my lighter.
Chastity lit her own cigarette and then waved the lighter at me, teasingly.
When I went to grab it she lifted it over her head which drew me into her. I prised it from her grip and lit my own before putting it with
my wallet. It had sentimental value but I wasn't about to tell her about It.
"Funny, I was about to say the same thing." She nodded to my lit bad habit, "thought you quit. Liar, liar..."
"I don't inhale."
"Where's the fun?"
If anyone came back here we'd look like we were flirting. Maybe we were. The day was getting stranger and more depressing as the seconds ticked by in derivatives of ten.
Telling her there was no fun in it would only darken my mood and her light attitude. For a reason I couldn't pinpoint I was drawn to her. Maybe it was that she was light in a world of darkness, one I'd been stumbling around in for so long even though I had Morgan. Even though self-hatred was as familiar to me as my own reflection, it still stung when I remembered I wasn’t really any better than my scum bag brothers, just better at trying to do better, but I failed at that on a daily basis.
Billy's death only reminded me that I could never really get out of it, only away. What chance did I have of keeping a normal life with Morgan when my brothers were literally just around the corner, doing their same old dance until it got them dead.
"The fun is seeing how long I can go before taking a drag." That was actually true, though I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
"Well aren't you a glutton for punishment?" She finished her cigarette and threw it to the ground like she was angry with it.
"I have to get back inside in a minute so do you want to tell me why you traipsed all this way, without the bull shit about returning my wallet?" I shoved my hands into my pockets to make sure she couldn't take it again.
"I felt bad, ok? You'd just seen your dead brother on a slab and then I took your wallet." She gave me the street kid trick; big eyes, small but warm smile. I didn't buy it.
"Right, so... thanks." I turned back towards the bar. It was too cold to pretend to smoke so I flicked the butt to the ground.
"OK, wait!" She grabbed my arm and my reaction was instant and driven by instinct.
Spinning on my heal I grabbed her hand and drew her back until her elbow was pinched to her side. We were face to face in a second and her eyes were wide. I could practically taste her fear, it was familiar and bittersweet.
"You wait. I don't know who you are, why you took my wallet or why you followed me to where I work but let's get one thing clear; I am not a mark. You do not want to mess with me or piss me off. If you think I'm some chump you can steal from you're mistaken. Go home and tell your guy that if you or anyone else ever shows up on my doorstep ever again you'll both be the ones lying on a fucking slab by morning."
It didn't take much to tip me over the edge. My reserve was gone. I would have to cop to this in my next meeting but for now I forgave myself. It had been a day of hell and I wasn't going to hold myself accountable for burning someone I didn’t know.
At least that's how I felt until I saw the tears brim in her overly black lined eyes.
"I wasn't being straight with you, I'll give you that, but I'm not trying to con you so how about you lay off with the death threats you fucking ass hole?" She yanked her wrist out of my grip and took a step back.
Christ, she was young. If I didn't feel like an unstable maniac before, I did right now.
"Then tell me why you're here, quickly..."
Never apologise, that's what Luke had always said. It was a shitty line of action to take but it was one that kept me out of trouble with some. And got me into trouble with others; namely Morgan.
"I was sent to check on you. Someone told me to find you and talk to you..." She took a step back, expecting me to strike again no doubt, but I was too spun.
"Take a hike, kid." I nodded towards the street and backed away from her.
If she tried to come after me I didn't know what I’d do so I made sure to slam the door behind me and I lock it quickly.
The rest of the shift passed slowly, I marked the time only by how many times Jerry shot me looks of disgust; it was over thirty.
Chapter Four
W alking home was a nightmare in itself. Every noise I heard made me jump out of my skin and look over my shoulder. It wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed.
There were positives for getting out of that life of grifting and trying to make a buck any way possible but the downside was that I'd gone soft.
Shit, I'd become the kind of guy I would have laughed at. The one who'd walk a little faster if he saw a guy wearing a baseball cap walking behind him. The kind of guy who crossed the street when a group of black guys were walking towards him. It was an embarrassment.
It was almost two a.m when I got to my door and my relief was palpable. I was so tired the thought of my king-sized bed filled me with an irrational excitement and that was before I remembered to think of Morgan and her long lean legs tangled in the sheets.
Before I could click the key in the lock my phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped out of my skin again and was sure I heard a low chuckle behind me. Looking around I decided it must have been my own subconscious laughing at how much of a pussy I was being because the street was empty.
"What the fuck do you want now?" I prepared myself to hear of another death, another brother succumbing to the street life, as unrealistic as that might be.
"Meet me tomorrow, at the pier." Ash spoke quickly, he was out of breath like he was running.
"What are you doing?" I asked, rolling my eyes when I heard the unmistakable sound of a girl’s laugh, "never mind. Why?"
"I need your help with something." He made a sound no brother wants to hear his other brother make. I felt nauseous.
"Whatever it is get someone else. Today wasn't me being re-initiated. I'm still out." I unclicked the lock and snapped it shut behind me, feeling my heart pounding too hard in my chest.
"Come on, you owe me." Ash laughed like I was playing with him. It took all my steely reserve not to just hang up on him. Billy was his brother, too. At least that's what I had to try to remember. It seemed like Ash wasted no time in getting back into the swing of life.
"I don't owe you shit-" I was about to launch into a tirade of verbal abuse but he cut me off.
"I wasn't talking to you, but Saul this is important. Like, life or death. Just you and me like the old days, no one else." He shushed the girl he was screwing and waited for me to say yes.
I didn't want to. I tried not to. Ash was a big reason why I didn't see the others anymore. He'd literally fucked Morgan over until she was so broken and desperate she had to go to rehab. He hadn't been there to pick up the pieces but I had. Letting him back into my life was a mistake but there were forces at work that I couldn't mess around with. Maybe he'd be able to help me find out who this Chastity chick was and why she'd followed me like a stray cat.
"What number?" I whispered as I approached my front door. If Morgan heard this she'd explode.
"Ninety-Two. Eleven O'clock."
The call ended. The number was familiar but I didn't know why. I hated the pier, the smell of water and the crowds but maybe if I entertained Ash for a while he'd leave me alone for good.
I crawled into bed with Morgan and tucked myself up behind her. She was warm on a cold night and when I pressed against her she responded.
*
I woke up at nine in the morning with this gut-wrenching feeling like I was about to commit a mortal sin.
"How are you even awake right now?" Morgan was in a white t-shirt which made her skin look more mesmerising that ever. Even though she had these huge fluffy socks on I found her irresistible. "I remember when my papa died I was in bed for a whole week. I missed senior picture day and had to have one of those anonymous pictures, like the silhouette with a question mark. They could have used an old picture but, no, Marcia Gonzales made a yearbook committee decision to leave me out-" She bit her lip and an apologetic smile pulled her lips up at the corners when she saw how my face had glazed over.
Hearing her talk about her childhood always made me both nostalgic and depressed. She'd been a good girl up until the year she flun
ked out of college because some guy she was dating got her hooked on coke and pills.
One of my favourite pictures of her sat on the mantle and I conjured it up in my mind; the prim, perfect, typical high school cheerleader with a dimple in her left cheek that used to look cute but now looked sexy as hell.
Despite everything I always pictured her like that, even after she started to look like she needed rehab, years before she actually went. It was astonishing how well she'd recovered. I watched her make breakfast, strutting around like a model right outta the pages of some magazine.
"Stop looking at me like that." She tried to frown but the smile and the dimple appeared as she buttered her toast before pouring us both a huge cup of black coffee.
"Like what?" I grabbed her and pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her waist to inhale her soft cherry blossom scent.
Her laugh was high and light with no trace of the horrors of her past. That was something I loved about her and something I despised about myself. Every time I laughed I felt like it was a lie, not her. She laughed like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Like you want to play hookie all day." She peeled my hands from her waist and dropped a kiss on my head. "You want to talk about yesterday?"
Her hand lightly tilted my head up so I had to look her in the eye. It was a trick she'd use for as long as I could remember and it was a bitch. I could never lie to her when I was looking into her dark almond eyes.
"Not right now."
She pursed her lips in thought at my evasion. I needed to see this through with Ash before I could talk about it. If I told her I was still in contact she'd tell me to stop. I'd have to do what she asked and because I'm a dumb ass guy I'd feel like I'd lost. I know I would. If I finished it once and for all I could at least say it was on my terms.
"Right... and why are you up so early today?" It was like she could read my mind sometimes.
"It's not that early." I busied myself with coffee and toast and tried not to think about the pier in case she actually did have the magical powers.